


freezeframe (bondage looks good on you)

by glim



Category: Merlin (BBC) RPF
Genre: Bondage, Kink Meme, Knifeplay, M/M, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-08
Updated: 2010-08-08
Packaged: 2017-10-11 00:04:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/106034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glim/pseuds/glim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein Bradley proposes roleplaying Buffy characters...</p>
            </blockquote>





	freezeframe (bondage looks good on you)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the kinkme_merin [prompt](http://community.livejournal.com/kinkme_merlin/4920.html?thread=1539896#t1539896): Bradley/Colin, role-playing or costume-play as Buffy characters. (Because you know it's Bradley's RL secret fantasy).

"No."

Mouth half open and finger still on the pause button, Bradley blinks at Colin. "I…"

"I know what you're going to say." Colin's fingers slip the remote from Bradley's and flick the scene back into motion.

"You do not." There's no possible way he could.

"That, that look on your face." He waves the remote at Bradley, as if he could freeze-frame him, take words and motion from him and leave him there, quiet, still, waiting.

Bradley swallows past the dryness in his throat. Thing is, Colin could do _that_. He has. With strong, slim fingers at Bradley's waist and the flick of his tongue against the corner of Bradley's lips. He's waited, minutes and moments ticking away, silent and still for Colin, barely moved, barely whimpered while Colin dragged the edge of his teeth down the length of Bradley's cock or pressed lube-slicked fingers inside him. Because Colin likes it that way sometimes. Because Bradley likes seeing Colin that way, desperation barely controlled, a lot of the time.

"I know that look," Colin continues, "the last time you paused the dvd with that look on your face, we spent an hour debating who was hotter, Spike or Angel. You made a bulleted list."

"You can't make a successful comparison of vampiric hotness without a list. That list was completely necessary."

"… and then you decided Giles was hotter than either of them. So." Settled back against the pillows, Colin turns to the television. "No."

"That's not," Bradley says, creeping uncertainty slowing his words, "what I was going to suggest we do this time."

Colin's eyes shift from the telly back to Bradley. Curiosity lights them when Bradley's voice lowers and he gives a barely imperceptible nod. Bradley hasn't made many suggestions, though the ones he's offered so far, well. Let's just say that Colin hasn't exactly turned them down and hasn't exactly found himself disappointed once he's taken them.

"You know…" Bradley pauses the picture again and this time it's perfect, utterly, fucking perfect. Body to body, lips barely touching, power like tension between the two of them on the screen. "They're sort of like the parts we already play…"

*

And maybe they're not, and maybe Colin's expression changes from vague amusement to interest to arousal when Bradley makes his suggestion, and maybe Bradley's more than sort of nervous and already a little hard before they start, and maybe he's worried that he's kind of fucked in the head, but he wants to know if they can do this, and the wanting, the nervousness and anticipation, already has him a little breathless.

"Huh. So this is how you like it. Wish I'd known that a few years back." Colin stops, hands behind his back, and looks – no, almost glares – at Bradley. "Suits you."

There's enough give in the restraints that hold Bradley's arms to the headboard that he can arch his back and stretch his body down the bed. "Maybe you should've tried asking, instead of just want-take-having."

And maybe they don't exactly look that different in these roles. Bradley's got on jeans and a white tee shirt that's way too tight over his chest and shoulders, and Colin's dressed in dark, skinny jeans and a black tee that rides up to show the jut of his hip as soon as he takes a few steps toward the bed. He pauses again, expression changing to one of appraisal, and he does this _thing_ with his hips. This crazy, amazing half-twist, half-cock of his hips, the movement smooth, as if his body curves in all the impossible places. Bradley gasps, a sharp, deep intake of breath that pulls the shirt over his chest, and meets Colin's steady gaze when he speaks.

"Would you have let me if I did? 'Cause, the way I remember, you were into other things back then."

"People change. You've changed. Or do you still see and taste blood on the palms of your hands?"

Colin stops this time. His knee presses to the edge of the mattress and it's almost close enough that Bradley can touch the tip of toes to it. Almost, but straining and reaching doesn't quite get him there and Bradley lets out a soft groan of frustration. A smile hovers at the edge of Colin's mouth and he gives a different sort of nod this time, one of slow, approval.

"That's my girl. All blood, fire, and honey."

"Not yours…"

"Yeah? You weren't theirs either, and they still got to see you like this before I did. What kind of deal is that?"

Then, suddenly, Colin's crawling, practically sliding up the bed, one leg firm between Bradley's, his chest warm above Bradley, and his tongue licking up the side Bradley's neck, pushing his head aside to press warm, wet lips to Bradley's ear. There's a glint of metal against the blankets; the knife-edge brushes against Bradley for a second before Colin's hand reaches up to hold him still.

"I'll tell you what kind. A really sucky one. I come to Sunnydale and see you, and think, _ yeah_. Her. And then? It turns out you boink the undead."

Something jerks inside Bradley, some indefinable, strange, hot thing jerks inside him, pulls at the center of his chest and pulls at his hips, forces his body against Colin's. "I could've loved you better… You never let me get close enough. I could've loved you way better, Faith."

"What about now? Am I close enough?"

"Come closer…"

"Am I good enough now?"

When Bradley doesn't reply, Colin laughs quietly, and his tongue licks a slow, soft path around his ear, teasing and damp.

"What? Was it better with Angel? With his cold hands on your tits and his deep, soulful eyes, begging you to be good so he could be good?"

Bradley doesn't jerk, but arcs his back to meet Colin's touch this time. Fingers trace over the too-tight fabric over his chest, drawing light circles over his skin; a thumb rubs over his nipple and teases.

"Huh, B.? That was good? What about Spike? What was he like inside you, all dead and cold?"

"It would've been way better with you," Bradley mumbles, turns his face into Colin's hair, to breathe in the damp scent of sweat and shampoo; to hide the look on his face when he imagines having a body like the slayer, so much stronger than the one he has now, strong and… different. Breasts and hips and a warm, slick space between his thighs.

"Come on B. Fight back a little. Tell me you liked it better when he fucked you, and it'll be a lie."

It's like… it's like that jerking thing inside him, the need and arching desire, isn't enough. The pain and stiffness in his arms from being bound isn't enough either, and neither is the heavy, hot weight of Colin's body against his own. Bradley rubs himself up against Colin, both of them hard now, and imagines, again, how their bodies would move against each other if they were well-matched like Buffy and Faith, desire driven as much by love as by hate.

And it's not just some thing about wanting to watch two hot girls get it on, watch them fight and fuck and twist themselves around each other. Because, really, he has no desire to watch at all, but to be, for a single, frozen moment, to be not himself, to be strong enough to have felt the sink of fangs into his neck and to have always been the stronger one.

It doesn't hurt that Colin's strong enough to hold him down, to stop him from arching too high off the mattress or twisting too far away from Colin's touch. And it certainly doesn't hurt that Colin has this way of looking at him, eye bright and lips wet, that might not be Faith, but it's fucking … god. It's powerful and painful and takes Bradley apart from the inside out.

"Never," Bradley grows, bends the leg he bad between Colin's to draw him suddenly closer. "Told you I could've loved you better. I would've loved you harder and stronger, because you know what? You were right, you were always right: we're the _same_."

Colin trembles a little, his breathing harsh and loud in Bradley's ear, and he moves against Bradley with that same undulating movement he used to approach the bed. His mouth moves from the corner of Bradley's jaw to his lips, but he pulls back a few inches, far enough that they can just look at each other in the dim light of the bedroom.

There. There it is. The moment, the pause and the mute, the second where Bradley is and isn't himself, the moment where he feels arousal move like white-heat through his body, and where he feels like he's lost himself for a second, and then, a second later, feels like he's never known himself better than he does now.

Before Bradley realizes, the sound of ripping fabric reaches his ears as cool air splashes against his skin, the shirt suddenly loose against his chest and the edge of the knife tickling his stomach.

"Would you do it again?" Colin asks, the little ironic twist at the corner of his lips. "Try and kill me?"

Bradley half-shakes his head, then half-nods, and drops his eyes to see the flat of the knife press to his skin.

"That's my girl…" Colin holds the illusion for another frozen moment, and it's enough.

Warm, fumbling fingers loosen the restraints and work both of them out of their clothes. Colin's mouth is all over Bradley seconds later, licking up sweat and pre-come, swallowing him down and sucking him until he's so hard he aches.

When he fucks Bradley, slick and hard and inside him within seconds, the white-hot light races up Bradley's spine and he comes way before Colin does. And that's just… it's good. To be sated while Colin drives inside him, pushes himself inside Bradley as deep as he can, fucking him until Bradley swears he really can feel heat and light race up every vertebrae. Colin comes with a noise that rips hoarse from the back of his throat, so rough and loud that Bradley feels as much as he hears it.

*

After, Colin's got Bradley draped over him, and they're both still hot, sweaty, and kind of sticky. Kind of sleepy, too, and it feels good to press warm lips and fingertips together before they actually fall asleep.

"So. That episode? With the chains?

"Yeah… _Enemies_." They just watched it earlier, paused it a half-dozen times, and only shut it off once Colin said yes, breathless and willing, yes, he'd totally do that with Bradley.

"Whatever. I'm never ever watching that with anyone ever again. You've warped me for life."

"You came warped, Morgan. I just… help you bring it out better. You can't hide warping like that."

"Mm-hm…" Colin doesn't disagree, and doesn't refuse to watch it with Bradley again. "You'd know." He kisses one of Bradley's wrists and holds it close to his mouth for a moment.

Bradley doesn't find himself disagreeing, either. Maybe he is fucked in the head, but he's also really well fucked and warm and sticky and he's going to fall asleep with Colin's body all over his.


End file.
